


Shattered Pieces

by ShadowDarkFlower



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3300773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowDarkFlower/pseuds/ShadowDarkFlower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When something happens The Musketeers think D'artagnan betrayed them....but did he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Big Thanks to celtcgal1041 for prereading this

D'artagnan turned and with a calm he didn't feel, walked away from the trio he had called his friends, brothers. He should've known this was coming. The events of the last few weeks had been leading up to this point. He had just been foolish to believe that everything would get better, when they talked it out. He knows that now. He knows that they never meant their brotherhood, they never meant their friendship, they never meant anything they said.

He walks up the steps that lead to his room, the other Musketeers parting like the Red Sea, whispering, snickering, grumbling to each other about what just happened...about him. About how no one wanted him around anymore. How he was a traitor. And while it didn't show on his face, it hurt to know that they thought so little of him. The men he risked his life for, would have given it if need be, watching him with disdain and disgust. It hurt him like nothing else ever has.

He made it to the door, surprisingly, without trouble. The familiar feel of the room didn't comfort him like it used to. Instead, it felt like the walls were closing in on him, suffocating him. It no longer felt like a place he belonged, a place to call home. His eyes ached with un-shed tears but he held them back then grabbed a small rucksack and packed his meager belongings. He didn't want the rest. He didn't want the reminder of this life.

Once he filled it he slung it over his shoulder before making his way, for the last time, down the stairs to the courtyard below. They were waiting for him. When he reached them he just stood there for a moment before setting down the bag at his feet. He forced back more tears, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing his grief written all over his face. Then he pulled the pauldron off his shoulder before turning, grabbing the rucksack again and walking to the gate. When he reached it he dropped the pauldron in the dirt and dust. He knew how they would take it and to be honest, he wanted them to be offended. Then he just walked away with his head held high.

Only once he was away from the garrison and out of the Musketeers eyesight did he finally let the tears slip down his cheeks. If anyone were to see him they would see the grief, hurt and betrayal written on his features. But at this point he didn't care. All he cared about was getting out of Paris, maybe even France entirely.

When he reached the city limits he found his thoughts wandering to his father and wondering if he would be proud of him for walking away with his head held high or would he be ashamed that D'artagnan had failed.

D'artagnan continued on his way down the road, away from the city, away from his life, away from everything that he had held dear. All that is over...It's time to start again...A fresh start...


	2. Chapter 2

2 weeks later

D'artagnan huffed for air as he continued to shovel out the stall of a temper-mental black mare that didn't like him in the least. This isn't what he'd imagined himself doing when he left Gascony with his father for Paris. But now, with nowhere to go, he was at least happy to have a job, even if it was farm work. While, yes, he was raised a farmer, it was never what he'd wanted in life. He'd wanted to be a Musketeer...men who had the highest honor. Look where that got him.

D'artagnan straightened up, leaning against the shovel in his hand. He was tired, physically and mentally. He wasn't sleeping. Being plagued by nightmares will do that to a man. Seeing the faces of the "family" he once had, the look of disgust etched on their features when looking at him. But that wasn't the worst. No, he could have handled it if it was everyone else except them. That's what hurt him the most. Knowing that they agreed with everyone who called him a traitor. D'artagnan's face twisted in pain at remembering their expressions.

D'artagnan shook himself out of his mental wandering. He still had things to do and remembering the hurt would gain him nothing. He grabbed the shovel and resumed his work.

 

The sound of horses hooves beating on the ground as they ran echoed through the forest air. Several birds flew from their perches in the trees to get away from the sound that was disturbing their peace.

The riders of the horses were silent as they thundered through the shade cast by the trees on either side of them. All of them were contemplating what they would say to their prey when they found him. How would they make it up to him? How could they earn his trust back?

There was one, leading the group by a hair, pushing his horse harder than ever before. The thoughts running through his head had been echoing there since the young man had disappeared.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It was never supposed to get this far. Why didn't he stop him? Why didn't he just tell him what's going on? Why didn't he protect him? Why did he condemn him also, even while knowing he was innocent? Why did he hurt his brother?

They had been on this search from the minute they could get away with leaving the garrison. It was slow going but they finally caught his trail. They were afraid they had lost it a couple of days ago but a tip from someone at the local tavern had set them back on course.

Now they hurried, trying to get to him, before it was to late to make amends all the while a pauldron and blue Musketeer cloak rattled against each other in a saddlebag on the lead horse.

 

The sun was dipping behind the hills to the west when D'artagnan was finally making his way up to the farmhouse. A nice family was letting him stay with them in return for doing work around the farm. It was a large piece of land. Enough so that he felt sure that he could disappear somewhere on the property if someone were to recognize him.

He stepped inside the door to the smell of freshly baked bread. Madame Elise made some excellent home cooked meals. It reminded him of his mother. As he stepped up to the table Monsieur John was stepping through the door to the outside. D'artagnan turned in surprise having thought that Monsieur had already come in. Monsieur leaned heavily against the side of the door frame, clutching his stomach in a tight grip. It didn't stop the blood from dripping down his fingers to pool underneath him. Madame screamed at the sight, causing her sons to run into the room. D'artagnan made his way over to Monsieur helping him to lie down on the floor. He's seen enough of these wounds being a Musketeer...this was caused by a sword. D'artagnan ripped part of his shirt off to apply pressure on the wound before yelling to the oldest boy.

"Matthew, run into town quick! We need the doctor!"

Matthew turned and ran to the barn. Minutes later a horse came galloping out with him on it''s back. D'artagnan turned back to his patient all the while repeating a mantra in his head.

Don't die. You can't die. Don't die. Don't die. Don't die...

 

It wasn't too long later that Matthew returned with the doctor. By that point D'artagnan and Madame had moved Monsieur to a bed in another room. The doctor was quick and efficient in his work. D'artagnan couldn't help but be reminded of Aramis, when he was patching up their wounds. D'artagnan shook that thought away.

The doctor turned to them when he was done. The look on his face was grave.

"He was lucky. The wound missed the major organs but there was much blood loss. I've done what I can...now we just wait."

Madame and D'artagnan ended up taking shifts to keep an eye on Monsieur through the night. It was tiring but fruitful as he developed a fever.

He woke once in his fevered state. During D'artagnan's watch in the early morning hours, he awoke to a hand trying to grab his arm. He leaned forward to calm Monsieur down but he wouldn't have it. When D'artagnan finally decided to wake Madame, Monsieur finally got a hold of his grip. He pulled D'artagnan close...close enough to whisper to him.

"He...said...that...they're coming...for...you."

He let go of D'artagnan's arm and promptly fell unconscious. D'artagnan just stood there in stunned silence.

What does he mean...


	3. Chapter 3

The last few hours til sunrise were hard for D'artagnan. The words that Monsieur had spoken before falling unconscious again kept haunting his in the early hours.

They're coming for you...Who's coming for me? What do they want? Why me? What'd I do?

The sun rose unnoticed to D'artagnan as he was lost in his thoughts. It wasn't until he felt Madame's hand on his shoulder that he realized what time it was.

"D'artagnan, are you alright?" Madame's voice carried a hint of worry. She had come to like and care for the young man in front of her in the weeks that had passed. To see the lost look on his face made her worry.

D'artagnan snapped out of reverie, cringing at the thought that she was worried about him when her husband was lying there unconscious on the bed.

"I'm fine Madame Elise. You shouldn't worry about me."

The disbelieving look she gave him told him exactly what she thought of that comment but she brushed it off. For now.

"D'artagnan, I need you to take care of the fields today. The boys can take care of the barn but with John laid up..."Her voice cracked when she said this. D'artagnan stood and gave her a one armed hug before backing away.

"Of course I will. Don't worry about it. You just take care of Monsieur and the boys and I will handle everything else." D'artagnan gave her a small encouraging smile before walking away. Unfortunately, even during that whole conversation, his depressing thoughts hadn't left him alone. The mantra of thoughts continued punctuated by one single phrase.

It's my fault. This is all my fault.

D'artagnan's thoughts persisted throughout the day and by nightfall he still had all those questions with no answers. But he did come to one conclusion...he had to find the person who did this before someone else got hurt because of him.

I'll find the man who did this and when I do...he'll pay.

 

It was mid-day when three men stepped into a tavern, unknown to them, nearby to where D'artagnan now resided. The travel weary men selected a table on the far side of the room, discouraging anyone from approaching them. They didn't feel up to socializing at the moment.

A barmaid made her way to the men looking them over as she did so. They weren't from around here, that much was obvious.

"What can I get ya gentlemen?"

Athos looked up at the maid standing beside the table, surprised by her voice, having not heard her approach. Aramis just flashed her a charming smile, though it wasn't as enthusiastic as his usual ones. No one felt much like normal. In the end it was Porthos who spoke up.

"A bottle of wine an' the bows of stew, please."

The maid hurried off in the direction of the kitchen. Once she was out of earshot Porthos turned to his companions.

"You know you both look like crap right?"

The comment startles Aramis into a chuckle. Athos just gave him a smirk but otherwise ignored the comment.

"Me, my dear fellow? Surely by now you must know that I look better than you on my worst day!" Aramis' retort made Porthos laugh, glad his teasing had done the job of lightening the mood some. Just then, the trio heard part of a conversation the men at the bar were having.

"You here about, John? Apparently, he got attacked by someone with a sword. Was barely alive, the doctor said, when he saw him last. Doc said that if it wasn't for the guest they've had for the couple weeks he wouldn't have made it."

The trio looked at each other. Could that be him, their missing brother they were talking about?

The barmaid came up with their stew, distracting them from the rest of the conversation. She set one down in front of all of them but when she turned to leave Athos grabbed her arm.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Can you tell us about the man that's helping out...John was it?"

The maid was all to happy to tell them about the mysterious stranger. She'd only seen him once but he was polite to her when not may people were. With the more she said the more the trio were convinced they'd found their friend. Porthos interrupted her spiel..

"Can you give us directions? We'd like to see if e can help them." The small lie apparently went unnoticed as she quickly told them how to get there. Once she finished, the trio finished their stew before paying and headed to the door. Just as they were about to step through she rushed up to Aramis.

"Here, you'll need this. It's a days ride." She thrust a bag into his hands. Aramis gave her hand a light kiss, causing her to blush, before heading out the door. When they had started on their way Athos spoke up.

"Do you think it's him?"

Porthos and Aramis looked at each other in surprise at how soft his voice was before turning to him completely.

"I pray so, Athos. But we can't be sure 'til we get there." Aramis responded. No one spoke for a while after that.

 

The next morning found D'artagnan out in the fields again. Monsieur had woken up for a short while earlier which lightened everyone's spirits. Even though he wanted to go up to the man and ask him what his words the other morning had meant he couldn't bring himself to do so. While, yes, he wanted to know, he was also afraid of what the answer might be. What if it was his fault Monsieur got hurt? What would he do then?

D'artagnan was making his way from the fields to the house when he could hear the pounding of horse hooves. He watched as multiple horses crested the hill not far from where he was. He just stood there and watched as they approached. When they got close enough for him to see the riders his reaction was instantaneous.

"No...it can't be." He whispered to himself in shock...


	4. Chapter 4

It was all farm land and hills as far as the eyes could see, stretching out until it met the sky on the horizon. There was a trio of horses making their way across the land, intent on making it to their destination as early as possible. The riders didn't want to waste a minute, knowing that they were so close to their quarry. So it came as a surprise when one of the riders drew their horse to a stop.

"Porthos, Athos, hold up a moment. We need to talk."

The other two pulled their horses to a halt, hoping to get an answer out of their companion as to why he stopped when they were so close to what they were looking for. They couldn't stop. Not now. Athos turned to Aramis determined to continue on but when he caught the look on his face his protests died in his throat. He knew exactly what the man was thinking, they had all been thinking it, just had wanted to ignore it. But that was not to be. Both Athos and Porthos slid from their horses and went to sit in the shade off to the side of the path. Aramis followed moments later. When they were all as comfortable as possible Aramis sighed before speaking.

"Guys, what are we doing?" Athos and Porthos looked at him incredulously. Aramis waved a hand, telling them to stop thinking like that.

"Not like that and you know it. But what are we doing? We have no idea how we're going to talk, explain, to D'artagnan about what happened. And, well, why should he believe us? We broke the trust he had in us. We broke everything he believed about us. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't know how I'm gonna talk to him and I would like at least a small strategy on how we're gonna do this."

Athos and Porthos were silent. They didn't know what to do either. How were they gonna tell the young man that everything had started out with good intentions but then it just went to hell? How were they gonna tell him that, when to him, they condemned him also?

All three men sat in heavy silence. Finally, it was Porthos who softly spoke up.

"We tell him the truth. No lies, at much as it may hurt him, and we do everything in our power to make it up to him and win his trust back." Aramis nodded in agreement.

"And what if we can't? What if there is too much damage done to be fixed? What if he wants nothing to do with us?" Athos brokenly stated, head bowed. He hated to be the one to bring it up, but it was just as plausible, if not more, than D'artagnan forgiving them. They had hurt him very much. Maybe it was unforgivable. Aramis leaned over and tightly grasped his arms.

"Refuse to believe that, my friend. Because to believe that is to doubt the love we hold for him, the love I know, a part of him still holds towards us. We may have to earn it and remind him of it, but it's still there." The vehemence in Aramis' words and voice was enough to knock Athos slightly out of his depressed stupor. He nodded in response.

"Alrighty then, let us continue on our way shall we? I'd like to reach there before sundown." Porthos stood and mounted his horse. The others followed suit. Athos led them with a renewed vigor. Porthos fell in step with Aramis. When he was sure Athos wasn't paying attention he softly asked,

"Do y' really think it'll be that simple?" Aramis shook his head.

"No...but when are the best things in life?" With that he rode up to Athos.

 

D'artagnan watched as the multiple horses rode up the hills. When they got close enough to identify he gasped in shock.

"No...it can't be...not you."

"Oh...but is is Musketeer. And we have some unfinished business."

The strange man pulled out his pistol and pulled the trigger. The deafening sound echoed through the valley, but D'artagnan didn't notice. He was grasping his stomach, watching with a weird fascination as the blood ran down his hand and arm before dripping into the dust and dirt below. He could see that he was hurt but it wasn't registering in his mind. There was no pain and then all of a sudden there was, washing over him, staggering him. He looked up at the man before him before crumbling to the ground just as Madame Elise came running out the door. She screamed his name but when he tried to respond nothing would come out, just gasping breaths.

"Stay with me, D'artagnan. Stay with me..." That was the last thing D'artagnan saw before the black of unconsciousness pulled him under.

 

They could see the house on the next hill and excitement rushed through them. Finally, at last, they'd found him. The trio spurred their horses a little faster. When they reached the bottom of the hill that the house resided on there was a loud piercing crack that echoed through the air. They all recognized the sound of gunfire. They were almost there when they heard a woman's voice cry out the name of their brother.

They finally reached the top of the hill only to see a woman bent over a body on the ground and three horsemen riding off in the other direction. They pulled up in front of the woman and the body before hopping down and rushing over. She saw them approach but did nothing to stop them. They all knelt quickly around both of them. Aramis gently pushed the woman away before pulling the body into his lap.

"No, no, no, no, no. D'artagnan, wake up! You're not dying now...not now that we've finally found you. We haven' talked everything through yet. Come on now...Porthos! Help me get him inside! Athos, grab my bag."

Porthos stood to help him while Athos ran back over to the horses for his bag. When Porthos was in position Aramis nodded.

"On three. One, two, THREE!" They lifted him up between them and carefully made their way to the door. The woman stood there and directed them to a room just down the hall. Two young men stood there in shock before running off to go grab more medical supplies that their mother had asked for. Porthos and Aramis walked carefully across the room before lowering D'artagnan gently to the bed. Athos ran in, shoving Aramis' bag into his arms. Aramis turned and cut D'artagnan's shirt off, knowing that it was unsalvageable and the easier way to get it off of him. Aramis bent down low enough to whisper in D'artagnan's ear.

"You stubborn boy. You better fight, you hear me? You better not decide to give up now. I know that you must feel like you have nothing to live for but you do...God do you. I know we'll be making everything up to you for the rest of our lives, but if you can hear me, know this. We're not letting you go without a fight."

And with that, Aramis got to work.


	5. Chapter 5

It was hours before the trio felt like they could sit and take a breath without worrying that D'artagnan was gonna die. It was touch and go for a while, with all the blood loss and stress but they finally were able to get him stabilized. Now, they just had to wait for him to wake. God, were they ready for it.

Aramis sat heavily in his chair picking at the blood still under his fingernails that didn't come out with washing. It was D'artagnan's blood. His brother's blood. It was his life essence...it shouldn't be outside his body. Not that much of it. He picked even more furiously at it.

Porthos and Athos just sat watching him in silence not sure what to say or do to help him. They weren't any better off, just better at hiding it. Besides...what would they say? That D'artagnan would be alright? They didn't know that he would be. There was nothing to say. So they all stayed silent.

A while later Aramis had calmed some and stopped picking at his fingernails. He just sat there like his companions watching the young man they all held dear, fighting for his life in the bed beside them. There was nothing they could do.

Madame Elise walked silently into the room where the men were. They were all silently sitting vigil at D'artagnan's bedside, their worry etched into their features for all to see. She knew they cared for the young man laying in the bed, just as she knew that these were the people that had hurt D'artagnan and made him leave his home. He hadn't talked about why he'd left, but seeing these men now, and the looks on their faces, she knew they had something to do with it. But, she would try to reserve judgment, at least not say anything...for now. She lightly cleared her throat to get their attention.

The one who was called Porthos turned to her. She gave a small gesture to the tray of food she held. He stood to help her get it to the table by the wall opposite the bed.

"Thank y' ma'am." He stated politely to her. She just hummed in response.

"I've made up an extra room for you, it's right beside this one. You won't have to go far to check on him." Her statement drew Athos and Aramis' attention. Athos responded heatedly.

"We're not leaving him. We'll stay with him through the night." Madame Elise turned to face him completely before responding.

"Look here, Monsieur. I don't know what your relationship is with that boy, but I've come to know 'im in the last weeks and let me tell you, he's hurt. Badly. Now I don't know who did it, but I suspect you lot did, considering the looks on your faces when you rode up here earlier. Now, I don't want him upset if he wakes up to see you lot and not want to, so let me make myself clear. You're staying in the other room while I watch him, and if he decides he wants to see you, then I'll let ya in but until then...you'll keep your distance. I don't care if you're Musketeers or not." She snapped at them, her resolve to not say anything gone, along with her calm. The trio of men just stared at her for a moment before nodding their heads.

"Yes, ma'am." The one who had medical training responded in a soft voice. She almost took pity on him but just shook her head. No, he didn't deserve her pity.

"Alright then. Here's your food. You eat up and get to your room. I'll be back soon." She swiftly turned and walked away leaving them behind to stare after her. The trio looked at each other before looking down at their plates. They knew they deserved everything she said, but God did it hurt to hear out loud instead of just in their heads. The three started eating while making a silent vow to each other that they'll look after the Gascon as much as possible and when he was healed to sit down and have a long discussion.

 

D'artagnan could hear loud voices all around him, but couldn't get his eyes to open. He could hear Madame Elise almost yelling at someone. She never yelled, not in anger anyway, and she sure was angry. He could hear a soft voice respond to her rant and swore he recognized it, he just couldn't place it. He tried to move, get someone's attention, but his limbs felt like lead. He tried to open his eyes again but still couldn't get them to move. He eventually wore his body out and fell back into unconsciousness, thinking that he should remember that voice.

 

The next morning brought nothing new to the Musketeers. Ever since Madame Elise had kicked them out of the room D'artagnan was in the night before they couldn't get anywhere near it. It was like everyone had conspired against them. They go down the hall to get near the door, just to see if they could hear anything, and someone comes up to pull them away or distract them. Even Monsieur John, who really shouldn't be moving around as much as he is, was in on it. By this point the Musketeers were about ready to break down the door to see D'artagnan.

It was mid-day when the trio, who were sitting out on the porch in silence, heard a whoop of joy come from inside the house. The three of them rush inside only to stop right outside the door to the room. Everyone was crowded around the bed, talking excitedly. But it wasn't long before Samuel, the youngest son, noticed them standing there. He tapped his Mom on the shoulder before gesturing to them. She looked at them for a moment before stepping aside slightly so they could see what all the fuss was about.

D'artagnan was sitting up in the bed, unusually pale for the dark young man, but awake. He was talking quietly to Monsieur John and Matthew about something they couldn't hear. Finally, after what felt like an eternity but in fact was only moments, he looked in their direction before freezing. There was a long moment of tense silence until D'artagnan spoke up.

"Athos...Porthos...Aramis. What are you doing here?"

The trio looked each other. This was the moment they'd been waiting for...


	6. Chapter 6

D'artagnan watched as the trio looked at each other but didn't answer him.

"I asked, what are you doing here?" He bit out, almost a growl. The three looked at him again, sheepishly this time, knowing that they'd have to answer if they wanted him to ever speak to them again. As much as they were looking forward to this moment...now faced with it, they didn't know what to say.

The three made their way into the room, picking spots to settle into while D'artagnan watched them all warily. They still hadn't answered him. Just then, Madame Elise came in, bringing a cup of tea to D'artagnan, saving them from answering for the moment. Now, they just needed to figure out what to say.

D'artagnan's hands were shaking as he grabbed the cup. The blood loss, anger and, as much as he hated to admit it, fear making him unsteady. A hand reached out from somewhere beside him, helping him bring the cup to his lips. D'artagnan chanced a look to the side, seeing Aramis giving him a soft smile. He didn't smile back. He just watched him while taking small sips of tea. When he decided he'd had enough, Aramis put the cup on the nightstand beside the bed.

D'artagnan looked back around the room, noticing that at some point Madame Elise had made her exit, leaving him alone with the trio. He scowled slightly at the thought.

An awkward silence reigned across the room until finally D'artagnan piped up in a cold voice.

"You ever gonna answer me, or are we gonna play the silent game until I kick you out?"

His words brought the three out of their thoughts, in a rush. If they wanted to fix it, it had to be now.

"D'artagnan...first off we want to say we're sorry, for everything that happened, for everything that was said." D'artagnan snorted in response. The three men cringed at hearing this, knowing they had made him this skeptical.

"Please...let us finish. If you still don't want to see us at the end of this," the trio looked at each other "then we'll leave you alone and you'll never see us again."

D'artagnan pondered in silence, deliberating on what he should do. Did he want to listen to the men who abandoned him? A part of him said no, while the other part asked, could you live without them? Finally he gave them a slight nod to continue. The three all breathed a sigh of relief.

"It started a couple of weeks before your...dismissal." Aramis stated. Everyone remembered the very public statement, the shameful way they'd treated their brother and him walking away from them. God, they had much to make up for.

"There had been rumors spreading across ranks that someone had been dealing with the Red Guard, betraying us. Naturally, we brushed it off as gossip, not believing that anyone would betray his brothers." Silence reigned for a moment at that. "But, it didn't stop, like gossip usually does. It stayed and the story grew bigger. Eventually, Treville asked the three of us to look into it." D'artagnan looked up then, startled, hurt spreading across his features. Even then, before everything, they hadn't trusted him. The trio looked down, knowing it was only going to get worse.

"When we asked about why you couldn't help, Treville just said that you were inexperienced, too raw, to look for a traitor. I think I speak for all of us that now, looking back, we should've noticed the signs." Porthos said quietly. Athos, who'd been sitting in silence the whole time, picked up the story.

"So...we started investigating. Just simple stuff at first. You know, asking a few unnoticed questions, etcetera. But the more we asked the more we found and it didn't look good. All the evidence was there; a Musketeer seen socializing with a Red Guard, a missing sword and the like. And eventually, we found a witness who claimed to see one of the "meetings"." Athos paused here, taking a breath. When he started back up again, no one commented on the slight shake in his voice.

"When we talked to the witness, he gave a basic description, one that could fit many of the Musketeers. Then he said that if he saw him again, he would recognize him. So naturally, we inconspicuously brought him down to the garrison to identify the traitor." D'artagnan's heart started beating faster in his chest. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going.

"He identified you, D'artagnan." Aramis brokenly stated. D'artagnan just sat there in silence. Porthos started up next.

"He said you were the one meeting with the Red Guardsmen. We brushed it off as him not seeing the person well enough. We told Treville and he didn't seem surprised. We asked about it, and he just said that's what he thought. He didn't tell us anymore, and we left it alone, though we were curious. The next day he called a meeting in the courtyard." D'artagnan knew what happened here, didn't want to hear it, but he said he'd listen. D'artagnan sat up a little stiffer.

"You know what happened here. He told everyone about how, yes, the rumors were true, and that the person had been identified. Then he pointed you out..." Porthos stopped talking, tears gathering in his eyes. This was the hardest point. Aramis grasped his shoulder comfortingly, wishing he could do the same for D'artagnan when he saw his pain filled eyes, before continuing the story. Athos' hands itched with the need to grab the Gascon and comfort him but he held back, knowing the touch wouldn't be appreciated.

"We never thought that he'd believe what was said. After all, he knew you. We knew you, and we knew you wouldn't do this. But you didn't say anything against the accusation. And when he started pointing out all the times you'd been disappearing for hours on end, well...it made you look guilty." All the men looked down in shame, knowing that this is where they failed their friend.

"You didn't say anything at first...just stood there in silence. When you started trying to explain though, everyone had already made up their minds. They wanted you to be gone. And as much as we hate to admit it, we did too for a moment. You had betrayed us, hadn't even defended yourself against the accusations. We were hurt. Then you were dismissed and you left and we weren't able to get answers out of you." Everyone in the room looked close to tears, D'artagnan already crying silently. Reliving the hurt was a bit much.

Silence reigned for a time, while everyone gathered their emotions. It was Athos who started talking then, the grief and misery startlingly clear in his voice.

"It wasn't til a couple of days later when a Red Guard showed up that we found out what was really going on. When we found out that he was actually an undercover Musketeer and that you were his contact everything fell into place. When we asked about why Treville hadn't known, he said that you were hired directly by the King, seeing as you were his champion, and that you were told to tell no one. When we got confirmation from the King...we rode to find you as fast as we could." Athos was holding back even more tears now that the story had been told.

"D'artagnan...we just want to say that we are so, so sorry for not believing in you. You believed in us when you didn't have a reason to and we didn't do the same. For that we will never forgive ourselves. We just ask that if at all possible, that you could accept our apology. We hope that maybe, one day, you'll forgive us and we can earn your trust again."

D'artagnan sat there silently crying. He didn't know what to say or do. What do you say to this? The people he had trusted had betrayed him and were now hoping for his forgiveness. What was he to do?

It was silent as D'artagnan thought about what was said and explained. When he spoke up, his emotions were stifling his voice.

"I would like to say that I forgive you right now... but that isn't the case. You hurt me...deeply. You thought me a traitor without giving me a chance to explain. You called me your brother, and when I needed you most you weren't there. I ask that you give me time to think...please."

The three men nodded before standing. Athos reached out and placed a hand on D'artagnan's shoulder.

"I know I hurt you, but I hope you know that I'm willing to do anything to make it up to you. All of us are. We care about you, D'artagnan, and we will prove that to you." He let go of D'artagnan's shoulder, walking to the door where the other two were waiting, not wanting to leave, before turning back to face him.

"We're here for you. You might not believe it yet but we are." With that, he shut the door behind them.

D'artagnan sat, waiting until he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, before breaking down and crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all still enjoying this!


	7. Chapter 7

Once D'artagnan was able to calm down enough to think, he sat and thought about what had been said earlier. He was hurt, drained and emotionally confused to top it all off. He didn't know what to do. A part of him wanted to forgive his brothers, to start over again. The majority though...it wanted to stay hurt and upset, to not trust them ever again. To hide away from the world and continue on with his life. But was that really living?

D'artagnan sighed, before siting up more to move. He knew he shouldn't, but he was going stir crazy and he couldn't stay sitting. Not while so emotionally compromised. It made him feel vulnerable. It had been different when he first came here. He was just angry and hurt. Now, he was angry, hurt, scared and confused all at once along with being injured. Life just couldn't give him a break could it?

He grabbed the nightstand to help leverage himself up, but his hand slipped and he crashed back down on the bed. Luckily, he hadn't hit the floor so his descent was silent and no one came rushing to assist him. All he wanted was to be left alone for a while. Even if being alone meant he was hurting. Well, this wasn't the worst he'd dealt with. He scoffed to himself. No, but it was close.

D'artagnan pushed himself up again, determined to get out of bed. Maybe it was stupid, but he felt weak otherwise. And D'artagnan would not be called weak. He kept pushing himself up until finally he was standing. He just stood for a moment, letting the dizziness pass. When he eventually went to take a step though...his legs buckled underneath him. Unfortunately, there wasn't a bed under him this time so he hit the ground with a bang. He groaned to himself, partly in pain, partly in embarrassment. Someone had definitely heard that.

As suspected not a moment later he heard multiple sets of footsteps swiftly coming down the hall towards the room. He tried to get himself up before they arrived, to no avail. The door opened and Madame Elise rushed in, a worried look on her face. When she saw however that he was trying to stand on his own that look turned into a scowl of disapproval. D'artagnan lowered his head slightly and prepared for the lecture.

"Charles D'artagnan! What on Earth do you think you're doing? You're not supposed to be out of bed and you know that...so why are you? Goodness, do you want to die? You could've ripped your stitches and bled out! Again! What were you thinking!"

The whole time she was ranting she was helping him back into bed. The trio was standing in the doorway stifling their laughter at the situation. They'd known D'artagnan would pull a stunt like this...he always did. No matter the injury. They just finally got to see an outside view on what they did when he did this sort of thing. Man...it was funny.

D'artagnan glared from his spot on the bed. To his dismay, it didn't work and just made them laugh harder. To be honest...a part of him wanted to laugh with them. He thought about that for a moment. He hadn't felt like laughing in a really long time, so he was surprised by the feeling now.

When Madame Elise finished her lecture and mothering she left, promising to be back with some broth. The trio stayed in the doorway even after she left. As much as they had been laughing, they had been worried to. Seeing D'artagnan sprawled out on the floor, trying to push himself up, had made a pang of hurt flash through them. They'd known that it wouldn't be easy gaining his trust back but seeing him try to do something everyone knew he shouldn't and not ask for their help, like he had times before...it had hurt. While he was never good about telling them when he was hurt.. he'd told them when it came to serious stuff like this..for the most part.

When D'artagnan noticed them still standing in the doorway he cleared his throat awkwardly. Nobody moved but the tension in the air was palpable. Finally, with a sigh, D'artagnan waved them into the room. The trio looked at each other. They hadn't expected this, but they would take what he offered. They moved to sit in various spots around the room and sat in silence until D'artagnan spoke up.

"Okay."

The three looked at each other in confusing. Aramis replied quizzically.

"Okay...what?" D'artagnan sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Okay as in...I'll try to get to know you again. You are not forgiven by any means...but we can start working towards that."

The three looked at each other, grins spreading across their faces. They'd gotten a chance...now they just had to make it work. Athos leaned down and grabbed a saddlebag that no one had realized was sitting there before handing it to D'artagnan.

"You might want those back." D'artagnan looked inside the bag and froze at the sight of his pauldron and cloak. He grabbed the cloak gently smoothing it in his hands, enjoying the familiar feel of it, before sticking it back in the bag, a sad look on his face. The three watched in confusion when he set in on the floor again. They'd thought he'd be happy to have it back. D'artagnan sighed before shaking his head.

"Guys...I can't be a Musketeer anymore. At least not now. I can't work with people I don't trust. I'll come back to Paris with you, maybe even train a little, but I'm not going out in the field when I don't know if the person next to me has my back. Everyone called me a traitor, not just you. I won't...I can't do it. I appreciate the gesture...but no, I don't want those back." As he said this tears were slipping down his face. He knew what he said was true, he couldn't go out if he didn't trust the others, but God...it hurt. That was what he wanted to be since he was a little boy and now...it was gone.

The three sat in shock, not wanting to believe it as true. But the look on his face said that there was no changing his mind. Porthos reached over and grabbed the bag.

"Some day little one, you're going to want these back. But until then...we'll keep them safe." Aramis and Athos nodded in agreement even though they wished they didn't have to. D'artagnan should have more confidence than this...he had for as long as they'd known him. To see him like this...he looked so shaken and vulnerable. This just firmed their resolve to set things right. And eventually, he'd work with them again. They wouldn't see his dreams die because of this.

After that everyone was silent.


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next few days as D'artagnan continued healing, he and the others spent the time learning about each other again. Unlike before though, there was a tension between them and there were things D'artagnan refused to talk about or even mention. That made life interesting for the trio, as one of the subjects was D'artagnan's shooter. They wanted to find the man who did this to their friend; they knew D'artagnan wanted to find him also, but he wasn't saying anything. That made them curious and more than a little suspicious. Was it someone they knew? Was it someone who wanted to get back at them by going after the youngest of the group, the little brother? The one they all are supposed to watch out for? Yeah.. look how well that turned out.

It was sunny outside this afternoon, so Madame Elise thought it would be a good idea to let D'artagnan get some fresh air. The trio thought that this would be a good time to question their young friend. D'artagnan was as relaxed as he could get with a bullet wound in his abdomen, sitting in a chair on the front porch. His eyes were closed and, surprisingly, he was at ease around them. The past few days had been a mixture of wary cordialness and mistrust. Needless to say...life had been interesting.

Athos, who was leaning up against the porch railing across from D'artagnan, watched the young man resting peacefully. They all knew he was awake, he wasn't that comfortable around them, but he was leaning back in the chair, resting better than he had been. Athos hated to bother him, even if it was about an important subject, but it had to be done.

"D'artagnan. We need to talk about what happened." D'artagnan's body lost it's laxness, instantly tensing up. The other just watched him, waiting for him to respond. Unfortunately, it wasn't what they wanted to hear.

"I don't want to talk about it. Let it go." Aramis snorted in contempt while Porthos grunted in annoyance. If he really expected them to let it go, then he didn't know them at all. That stopped them in their tracks. Could it be that he felt like he didn't know them and couldn't trust them, or that he thought they wouldn't try to find the shooter because of how they treated him? Aramis sighed, knowing that that is exactly what he was thinking. He still didn't trust them enough. The look on Athos and Porthos' faces told him that they had come to the same conclusion.

Athos leaned towards D'artagnan, determined to convince him otherwise, but Aramis just waved a hand, silently suggesting that they let him try to talk to the stubborn Gascon. Athos sighed, but moved to switch spots with Aramis. Aramis settled in Athos' former spot comfortably before speaking.

"D'artagnan...we want to find him. He hurt you dearly and that means he hurt us too." D'artagnan snorted but didn't say anything. "Please..tell us what happened. If not for us, then for yourself. You can't go after him on your lonesome, not in this condition, but we can help you catch him." Aramis hoped this got through to him. He might not believe that they care but maybe this can be a way to help show that they do. Not ideal...but maybe it'll work.

D'artagnan was silent for a long few moments, contemplating what he should do. On the one hand, they could catch the guy. On the other, what they could learn could destroy them. How could he tell them that Treville did know about him being the handler to the undercover Musketeer, that the whole thing was a charade to catch the real mole, hoping that by everyone thinking he was the mole that the actual one would slip up? How could he tell them that?

The trio could see the indecision on D'artagnan's face. They could tell that a part of him wanted to trust them but the other, the hurt part of him, wanted him to tell them nothing. It was like watching a war. Finally, it seemed like the trusting part won out, as a look of resignation appeared across his features.

"To start out with, I'm just gonna say, don't be mad at Treville. And also, this doesn't change how much you hurt me." The three looked at each other oddly. Treville? What did he have to do with this? They cautiously looked towards D'artagnan, before giving a nod of assent. D'artagnan took a deep breath before starting.

"Okay, you know that I was the contact to the Musketeer who was undercover. Well, I was also undercover." The trio looked at each other in shock. What was going on? D'artagnan waited a moment to let that sink in before continuing.

"There is an actual mole inside the Musketeers. I was supposed to figure who it was. Treville suspected that the Cardinal planted a member of the Red Guard amongst our troops to get information. So Locksley, the other undercover Musketeer, went to the Red Guard to see if he could find any information on who it was, while I was to root him out. But when I was seen with Locksley, Treville had this idea that maybe if we let everyone think that I was the mole, then maybe the real one would come out of hiding. Only, you weren't supposed to believe I was the mole. Treville and I both thought you would see through the scheme and follow me, and then I would then tell you everything." D'artagnan's voice was soft while he was speaking. All of this, all this hurt, just to find a freaking mole.

The trio looked in a daze. Everything they knew...was a lie. Everything they were told was a lie. What did they really know? They all looked back towards D'artagnan, who could easily read the confusion and anger on their faces. Wincing, he continued on.

"But you didn't...so I ran. I just left. I couldn't have cared less if there was a mole. I was hurt and I didn't want anything to do with it anymore...not if it meant being around you." That comment had them wincing. Yeah...while not everything was as it seemed...they still messed up with D'artagnan.

"I traveled until I got here and Monsieur offered me a job. I was fine, and then..." He trailed off, not wanting to continue. Athos leaned forward, and in a voice harsher than he meant to use, demanded he continue.

"Finish the story, D'artagnan." D'artagnan flinched while Aramis and Porthos glared at Athos before looking warily back at him. He looked down, not wanting to see their faces while the rest of the story came out.

"The shooter...was a Musketeer." Aramis looked at the others sharply, the same expressions on their faces. Oh...there would be hell to pay when they got back to Paris. And a lot of explaining.

"It was Musketeer Alarick. Well, him and his buddies...I don't know their names. They were mad, I guess, because they think I was the mole. That's the only reason I could think of. And he said that we had unfinished business before shooting me." Athos and the others knew who D'artagnan was speaking of. Alarick was one of the senior Musketeers, and a mean one at that. And very vindictive. If he thought D'artagnan was the mole, they could actually see him shooting him. Not that they disbelieved D'artagnan.

D'artagnan stopped talking, still keeping his eyes facing downwards. He knew that he had hurt them by not telling them everything before but he couldn't. And then they'd hurt him by believing he was the mole. What a sorry bunch they were.

The trio sat in silence for a few moments. It was Porthos who realized that D'artagnan had kept his head down through the whole story, thinking he was about to get criticized, yelled at and condemned again. Well, he wasn't going to let that happen. He stood and walked over to D'artagnan, who didn't look up from his feet at him, before scooping him up in a hug.

D'artagnan gasped in shock when he felt warm arms wrap around him. He'd thought that they'd be angry and upset with him, not giving him hugs. He reached up and cautiously wrapped his arms around the bigger man.

Athos and Aramis watched the display of affection with amusement, their own affection and worry. This whole thing caused a whole new set of problems.

Porthos tightened his arms slightly before letting the Gascon go, only to put a hand on his shoulder and use the other to lift his head up to meet his eyes. When D'artagnan's eyes finally reached his he spoke.

"D'artagnan, you were very brave to do what you did and I'm sorry we hurt you. We will catch Alarick and the mole. And maybe, eventually, you'll return to being a Musketeer. You'll always be one of us, no matter what you choose though, never forget that." Athos and Aramis stepped forward and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder and arm in agreement. D'artagnan sniffled, trying to keep from crying. Finally he stopped trying and just leaned into Porthos, crying into his chest, all the while taking comfort from his newly reacquired brothers. He might not trust them completely yet, but this was a good start.


	9. Chapter 9

It was about another week before D'artagnan was well enough to make the trip back to Paris. And while he hated to say goodbye to the people he had come to call family, he knew it was time to go back. It was time to settle things.

After breakfast the trio got together all their things, including D'artagnan's, while he said goodbye. It was tearful, and full of many hugs but finally they were able to break away and get a start to the long ride ahead. Before they pulled out of the yard though Madame Elise pulled aside the three.

"You listen here and you listen well. D'artagnan has become like a son to me. You best not hurt him again, and if you do, pray that I don't find out. He has a big heart, one that gets hurt easily, so don't hurt it." With that she said one last goodbye to the Gascon before heading back to the house. After they were away from the house D'artagnan turned slightly towards them.

"What'd she say?" The frown in his face showed his suspicion. Aramis just rode beside him and placed a hand on his arm.

"Nothing to worry yourself over my young friend. Just some directions on how she wanted us to take care of you." D'artagnan snorted before busting out laughing. Unfortunately, that made his side twinge and he gasped for breath. When the others went to help him he waved them off.

"I'm fine. Laughing just hurts is all." He just managed to get it out before having to breathe deeply. The others nodded in response, but hung close just in case.

They were a couple hours into the ride when clouds started gathering in the distance.

"Storm's moving in." The others looked at D'artagnan. He just shrugged and continued on. He grew up having to know when the weather was gonna change. It was a lesson that had been very useful.

Not much farther down the path they came across an inn. Luckily, it had a decent stable for them to store their horses and saddlebags. Aramis went inside to rent them a room, as they were gonna ride the storm out, while the other dismantled the tack. D'artagnan just sat and watched Athos and Porthos as they wouldn't let him help. He'd conceded with a huff, but had been grateful. While he was getting better, he wasn't exactly up to par. He did however have enough strength to tease them mercilessly on their mother-hen like tendencies.

By the time Aramis returned they were all ready to head inside. Just as they made it to the porch, it thundered and rain came gushing down. They shivered at the thought that they could have been caught in the deluge.

"This way. I was able to get two rooms so we'll have to decide who's staying where later. For now, I've ordered some dinner." Aramis lead the way up a staircase and down a short hall to two end rooms. They all piled into one and settled in. Not long after, their food was delivered and they tucked in, just savoring the comfortable silence. When everyone had finished and drank their share of wine, Athos sat back and just watched the others. Aramis and Porthos were regaling D'artagnan with some stories of when they first got partnered up, all those years ago. Whatever the story was, as Athos wasn't paying attention, it must've been funny because D'artagnan started laughing. It was good to hear that sound again.

After they had calmed down and settled into silence D'artagnan got this far off look in his eyes. The others watched in concern. Porthos scooted closer to him to settle an arm across his shoulder, which startled D'artagnan out of his reverie.

"Are you alright lad?" Porthos questioned, concern coating his voice. Maybe they'd pushed the boy to make the trip too soon. D'artagnan shook his head slightly, not quite a no, but not a yes. A sigh left his lips.

"I just...I never thought that I'd return. And I guess...I've kinda got mixed feelings about it. I want to catch the mole, and maybe even Alarick, but I'm not sure I'm ready to face the others. Hell, I'm not sure I ever will be." He spoke out quietly. He didn't want to upset the others, but he just didn't feel all that great about returning.

Porthos looked at the other two, his expression telling them he wasn't sure what to do. D'artagnan still didn't trust them completely so he didn't want to say anything that would hurt him or jeopardize what little they've been able to fix of their relationship. Eventually, after much thought, he replied.

"Da'rtagnan, you have nothing to be afraid of or sorry for. You did what was right, nothing will change that. The other Musketeers should realize that. As for Alarick and the mole, it's natural to be a little afraid about how that will turn out. Never be ashamed of that." Porthos held his breath, hoping that he'd said the right thing. D'artagnan was silent for a long moment, but then nodded in agreement. A soft sigh of relief escaped from Porthos' lips.

Athos cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. They all looked towards him.

"It's getting late, we should turn in. We have a long day ahead of us." Aramis nodded in agreement, before turning to D'artagnan. The Gascon squirmed slightly under his scrutiny.

"I'll be staying with you in case you are in need my services during the night. Now, which room would you rather have?" While D'artagnan replied that the other room was fine and made his way to the door, Athos and Porthos scowled at Aramis. They'd all wanted to stay with the boy. Aramis just smiled cheekily back at them before heading out with D'artagnan.

Once in the other room, D'artagnan made his way over to one of the beds, settling his stiff and sore body onto the mattress. Aramis grabbed his medical bag before settling in beside D'artagnan.

"I need you to lift your shirt so I can check the wound. It shouldn't take too long to get this bandage changed." Aramis soothingly told D'artagnan before proceeding. He worked soundlessly, only D'artagnan's harsh breaths sounding in the room. Once he was done he gently helped D'artagnan out of his shirt and breeches before settling him under the covers. Once comfortable D'artagnan grabbed Aramis' wrist, stopping him from leaving the bedside. Aramis turned back to the young man.

"Thank you." The boy sleepily said before nodding off. Aramis chuckled affectionately, soothingly running a hand through D'artagnan's hair.

"Silly boy. As if I'd do anything else." Aramis stated before settling in for the night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short but I promise the next part will be longer! Hope you enjoy!

It was a week and a half later when they finally rode into Paris. They were all bone weary exhausted and sore, especially D'artagnan. Having a gunshot wound to the abdomen, even though it was healing, while riding a horse on a 2- week ride...needless to say it wasn't fun.

When they started to near the garrison, relief flowed through the trio. They were finally back "home". D'artagnan however, felt no such relief. All he felt was anxiety. He was so anxious in fact that he didn't notice his breathing becoming shallower and Aramis sidling up beside him, asking if he was okay. It wasn't until Aramis grabbed his arm that D'artagnan realized what was happening and started to calm down. When he'd calmed down enough to hear over the white noise echoing in his ears, he grabbed Aramis' hand and held on tight. Aramis didn't say anything, just let him take comfort in the contact. Athos and Porthos watched the scene with worry. They knew the reasons behind the young man's panic but what were they to do? There wasn't anything they could say to make it better, even a little bit. All they could do was be there to support him. At this thought the two sidled closer, letting D'artagnan know they were there. Once he calmed down some more they continued on their way.

Just outside the gates to the garrison D'artagnan pulled his horse to a stop. The others looked at him in confusion. He shook his head at them, pulling his horse back a step.

"I can't go in there, I can't stay here. I'll just find an inn or something for tonight." He stated emphatically, still pulling his horse back. Athos rode up to him, stopping him from pulling back even more.

"Okay, D'artagnan. We'll find somewhere to stay for the night. Don't worry, it's okay. Just calm down." Athos hoped he had kept the hurt out of his voice. He knew D'artagnan didn't feel safe here, but it hurt all the same. This was their home. Well, all they knew of home.

"Come on, this way." Porthos said before riding off in another direction. The others looked at each other curiously but followed, trusting Porthos' judgment. He lead them away from the garrison, and into the heart of the city. When they finally reached their destination, an inn not far from the garrison, D'artagnan was ready to collapse into bed.

The trio dismantled the tack while D'artagnan watched in silence, refusing to be drawn into their lively banter, as much as he wanted to comment. They made their way inside slowly, taking their time while walking with D'artagnan. Porthos rented them rooms, as he apparently knew the owners. Once that was finalized, they made their way up a staircase to the left, D'artagnan leaning heavily on Athos. God, was he tired.

Porthos directed them to the rooms, leading the way, while Aramis brought up the rear. Once inside, Athos helped D'artagnan to the bed. It was a good thing too, as D'artagnan's knees chose that moment to give out underneath him. Once settled, Aramis set about making a pain draught, while Porthos and Athos set out his other supplies before heading to get something for them to eat. Once Aramis finished he helped D'artagnan drink the draught. The Gascon screwed his nose up in disgust but drank it anyway. This showed Aramis how much his young friend was hurting. He set the cup aside then helped D'artagnan out of his shirt. D'artagnan hissed at the pull to his wound.

"Hold as still as possible, D'artagnan, for this will hurt." Aramis instructed, before gently as possible, pulling the wrapping away from the wound. It stuck, causing D'artagnan to whimper. Aramis finished pulling it off before soothingly rubbing his hand up and down D'artagnan's arm.

Athos and Porthos stepped into the room, seeing D'artagnan's shallow breaths and Aramis' concerned gaze on him before it turned to them. They quickly put the food onto the small table off tot he side and made their way over to the bed. They each took a spot around the other two, giving comfort silently.

Aramis was able to eventually get a new wrapping on the wound before D'artagnan laid down and promptly slipped into unconsciousness, not caring that he was missing dinner. The others watched over him silently, guardian angels to the young man.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's longer like I said it would be!!! Enjoy!

The next morning brought rain and clouds instead of sunshine. D'artagnan watched as a water droplet made its way slowly down the window, as if the sky was crying its tears for all the world to know. It was quite fitting to D'artagnan, since his mood was down and depressive today. He wasn't looking forward to today. In fact, he would run the opposite direction of today, go back in time, if he could. But he couldn't. Today was the day he saw all the people who should've trusted him but didn't. Today was the day he saw the Musketeers.

He wouldn't do it if it wasn't for the trio. If it was just about him he would leave it be, let everyone think he was the mole and move on with his life, as empty as it would be without being part of them. This was his home now, as much as he hated to admit it in that moment, it was. It was all he had. Now, he had to stand up for what they stood for. Though the man they're standing up to knew the rules. How they were gonna get Alarick imprisoned was going to be interesting to say the least.

If the trio had their way they'd just walk into the garrison and lock him up and throw away the key. But D'artagnan knew it was gonna take more than that. Alarick as a well known, well respected Musketeer who had may friends, including ones who had the Kings ear. No, they were gonna have to do this right.

D'artagnan was still watching the rain droplets running down the window when said trio showed up. When they had left earlier that morning the Gascon had still been sleeping. It had taken him a while to fall into a restful sleep so the others thought it would be a good idea for him to get as much rest as possible before the long day ahead.

The others continued to watch the young man at the window silently, debating whether they should disturb his peace. Eventually though the young man made the decision for them.

"You're staring you know." The Gascon stated matter of factly, voice still rough with exhaustion. He turned to them, and they could see the dark rings surrounding his eyes like a shadow. His whole stance showed his exhaustion, pain and, to their dismay, defeat. His shoulders were slouched, as if curling in on himself. Almost like he thought it would protect him from a blow. It was sad to see. D'artagnan was usually so full of life and energetic, stubborn beyond belief and above all loyal. Now, he looked like a ghost, a husk, of his usual self. Porthos fought the shudder that tried to run through him. Athos just had this hard, angry look in his eyes, though not directed at D'artagnan. Just angry at everything that had happened to the young man in such a short period of time. Aramis just took a step towards the young man.

"I need to take a look at those bandages before we leave." Aramis stated softly, walking up to D'artagnan like he was a skittish colt. D'artagnan just nodded before making his way to sit on the edge of the bed. He gently pulled his shirt off, refusing help from the others. He bit back a groan at the bite of pain in his abdomen, determined to finish it without looking weak. When he finally got it off he took a deep breath in relief.

Aramis moved quickly to his young friend's side, bringing his medical bag with him. He as gently as possible changed the bandage before helping the young man change into a fresh set of clothes for the day. Athos and Porthos set out the food they'd brought while this was happening. As much as none of them felt like eating, they needed to keep their strength up.

When they'd all finished their respective duties they sat down to eat. Everyone was silent, each lost in their own thoughts about the day ahead. Once finished they silently finished getting ready before heading out. It was time to finish this.

 

Athos pulled to a stop outside the garrison gates, turning to look to the others. Aramis and Porthos shared the same expressions of anger, worry and disappointment. Anger and disappointment at the men who called themselves Musketeers and worry over their young friend. D'artagnan's face was ashen and his hands were shaking. He gripped the reins tightly, hoping to conceal it from the others, to no avail. Porthos stepped into place beside him, silently placing a hand on his shoulder in comfort and support. D'artagnan took a deep breath. When he exhaled he sat up straighter before nodding to them.

"Let's get this over with."

Athos nodded before turning back around and heading closer. The two Musketeers on guard straightened, preparing to ask what he wanted before recognizing him. They stepped towards the gates to let him in. When the four passed through, their gaze went to D'artagnan in surprise and suspicion. D'artagnan fought the urge to curl in on himself.

You're stronger than that. Hold your head high and stand up for yourself. His father's words from childhood echoed around in his head, pulling him together. God, how D'artagnan wished he were here right now. He'd know what to say and do.

They continued into the courtyard, all eyes focusing on them. Or more specifically, D'artagnan. There was a range of expressions across the Musketeers' faces. Disdain, disgust and anger. And on a seldom few, there was happiness and respect. That took D'artagnan by surprise. He'd thought that they'd all hated him and to find out that not all of them did...it made him feel a little lighter.

They pulled up to the steps that lead up to Treville's office. Porthos, the first down, helped D'artagnan dismount with no care to what anyone thought. Screw them. All he cared about in that moment was the young man that wormed his way into their hearts, past all their walls. Nothing else mattered.

The group made their way to the door of the office, feeling all the eyes boring into their backs. The door opened with a creak and Treville just stared for a moment at his men, his best. They all looked worse for wear. Dripping with rain, soaked to the bone. He stepped aside and let them in shutting the door behind them.

Once closed into the office he turned back towards the men. They all looked expectantly, and maybe a little defiantly at him. He just calmly walked around them and took a seat behind his desk.

"So...do I need to ask?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy this installment!

"So...do I need to ask?"

Athos looked to the others, trying to determine what to say. Did D'artagnan want Treville to know everything or were there only certain things he'd want said? Athos' gaze slid to D'artagnan, the question in his eyes. D'artagnan looked back, eyes never straying from his mentors face. Once he'd found what he was looking for he nodded.

Treville watched this with something almost akin to amusement. This wasn't a laughing matter, no, but to see the bond that so many were jealous of at work...it made him want to smile. There was no way on Earth that anyone could understand this bond and be a part of it without understanding the four men in front of him. And that was something that not many people could do. They all had their differences, their problems, their pride. But to them...all that could be put aside for one of the others. It was almost like they were different parts of a whole or, all parts of a clock, working together in harmony. Without one piece, everything became disjointed and broken. They knew what each needed, and they were willing to anything for their brothers.

Athos finally made himself pull his eyes away from the young man he called his brother and back at their Captain. The look on the Captain's face surprised him. Was that...amusement? What on Earth was amusing about any part of this whole thing? A scowl worked its way across his features. If Treville wasn't his commanding officer he'd be questioning, quite violently he might add, what was funny about D'artagnan's plight. His scowl deepened.

Aramis, who had thankfully noticed Athos' expression stepped forward to give the report. Porthos, having caught onto Aramis' plan, grabbed Athos' shoulder and pulled him back a step. Athos turned the scowl onto him but he wasn't dissuaded. Finally, Athos conceded with a breathy grumble. D'artagnan covered a snort, amused by their antics, before turning his attention back to the front. Anyone who was paying attention though would've seen the slight smile on his lips.

***  
Treville sat back in silence while the four got comfortable in different chairs around the room. It didn't surprise him to see Aramis nonchalantly sliding his chair closer to the Gascon, especially not after what he'd just heard. Just hearing about what Alarick had done to the young man in front of him, all because of some stupid plan to catch the mole...God, it never should've gotten this far. This was never supposed to happen.

Even if Treville had doubts about the story, the evidence was there. In the way that D'artagnan held himself, in the way he would every so often wrap an arm around his middle as if in pain, the way the others hovered...There could never be a doubt in anyone's mind about what happened here.

Treville sat forward, leaning against the desk in front of him, the desk he could despise on some days, days like today. He steepled his fingers while peering at the men around the room, eyes inevitably straying back to the Gascon. He rubbed a hand down his face, sighing.

"D'artagnan...I'm very sorry for what happened to you. This was never supposed to happen and you have my deepest apologies."

D'artagnan lifted his head up slightly from where it had been propped against his chest in exhaustion. Using his hair as a cover for his eyes he quietly asked a question that surprised everyone.

"So...you didn't send him to kill me?"

The others startled, turning to D'artagnan in horror. How could he think that? D'artagnan just ducked his head again, not even bothering to try and peer through his hair. When Treville quieted down the others he responded to the question, voice clear and steady.

"No, D'artagnan, I did not. I never sanctioned it and never would. I'm sorry to see that you lost that much faith in me and your brothers but I guess I should've expected that considering everything. While I can't promise everything will be fixed right away, I do promise you that it will be soon."

D'artagnan chanced a look at Treville's face, looking for any sign of deception. After taking a good look and finding none, he flashed a slight smile at him. Treville nodded back before directing the next comment to the others.

"So, what are we going to do about Alarick?" A litany of ways to make him suffer came flying from different parts of the room. The vehemence in their voices told Treville that they would actually do it too. D'artagnan paled considerably at some of the things being said. Seeing this, Treville put a stop to it.

"Quiet down. No, we will not be killing or maiming him. And Aramis...I don't even want to know where you learned how to skin a person alive." Aramis just smirked but didn't say anything in response. D'artagnan's eyes were wide as he gazed at his friend in shock while Treville just shook his head.

"So, we need a game plan that doesn't involve killing anyone."

The four looked at each other and Treville could see a silent conversation going on between the Inseparables while D'artagnan watched with a sad gaze. It was then that Treville realized that part of the reason D'artagnan didn't trust them is because they didn't trust him. Treville silently vowed to talk to the others once this was all over.

Porthos turned back to Treville first.

"Why can't we just confront him and his friends? D'artagnan can identify them." Treville just sighed.

"Because while, yes, he can identify them, they have friends who are high up in status and they could point out that he was just accused of being a mole and could be blaming them just to get back at the Musketeers. And before you ask, no, we haven't caught the real mole. Everyone still thinks D'artagnan is the traitor."

A collective sigh rose up from the trio. D'artagnan watched silently from across the room, not saying anything in his defense. In his mind, it was a lost cause, trying to help him. They'd never be able to convict Alarick and he wouldn't work in a group with the man who shot him.

"Why don't I just go away? There's no way we're going to be able to arrest Alarick and there's no way I'm working here while he's here. This seems to be the only solution." Athos stood and walked over to the Gascon, grabbing him by his shoulders.

"Don't you dare give up, D'artagnan. Not your dream. Especially not because of some bastard who thinks he can hurt one of our own and get away with it. We'll find a way to catch him." D'artagnan just shook his head.

"Don't you see, Athos! There is no way to get him! Not for shooting me, while pretty much everyone here wants me dead in some way or another. They'd cover for him! Hell, they'd agree with him! They'd just sit by and let him do it again or do it themselves. I can't stay here as long as I have a target on my back. I won't." D'artagnan's voice was rough with unshed tears, his clogged throat making it even more difficult to speak. Athos just stared at him before letting go and spinning around to hit the wall. D'artagnan jumped when the resulting crack filled the room. Athos paced to the desk before bracing himself on it, breathing deeply, though D'artagnan couldn't tell if it was in anger or from aborted sobbing.

Porthos stood and quietly made his way over to the Gascon. He knelt in front of him, grasping his shoulders, much like Athos had but gentler.

"Lad you have three brothers who won't let you go without a fight. Don't give up yet." Porthos' gentle tone broke D'artagnan's walls as tears started silently streaming down his face. Aramis reached over from his spot beside him and grasped his arm in a comforting grip.

"What if we cleared your name before going after Alarick?" The four of them looked towards the Captain, who they'd honestly forgotten was in the room.

"What do you mean?" D'artagnan swallowed to clear the tears from his voice. Porthos and Aramis kept their grips on him, and for that he was grateful.

"What if we find the mole first and clear your name before dealing with Alarick? Then you can come back here without feeling like everyone is going to kill you before you can do anything." Treville stated.

"How?" Everyone noticed the hopeful note in D'artagnan's question and couldn't help but be happy that he hadn't given up yet.

"Here's my plan..."


	13. Chapter 13

Rain poured down on Paris. The clouds darker than the day before, much like the moods of the people inside a gated building towards the center of the city. The pitter-patter of the drops banging against the roof of the weather worn building audible inside the walls of the separate rooms that lined the walk way on the ground and on the floor above.

In one of the rooms a man sat, not able to sleep due to thoughts running rampant through his mind. His body was still, almost like a statue; if it wasn't for his chest moving with breaths he might have been considered one.

This wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to care. Why now, do they cause him all these problems? They should have left well enough alone. It wasn't any of their business and now...they're ruining everything!

The man's body shuddered, his thoughts drifting to the memory of the four riding into the garrison. He didn't know why they cared about him. But now that they do...everything was going to have to change. The whole plan.

Time for plan B...

 

D'artagnan sat on the edge of his bed at the garrison. He hadn't wanted to stay here but after a long night of planning, they'd kinda had no choice. Even though exhausted the night before...he hadn't been able to sleep. His dreams had been tormented, plagued, by the sound of gunfire, pain spreading across his abdomen and the face of the man who had done it leering at him from up on his horse. Only instead of him riding away, he'd stayed and mocked him, though in the morning hours, D'artagnan couldn't remember what was said.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. He wasn't ready for today. Nowhere near it. As much as he tried to raise the defenses that had seen him through many things, including the death of his father and what happened with Vadim, he couldn't. It was like his soul was weary of the battle to stay strong. He just wanted a break. But, he'd promised his friends that he wouldn't give up, in not so many words. So, he would do his best not to.

The Gascon raised his head from his chest, where it had rested during his contemplation, at the knock at the door. It was probably the others to help him get ready for the day, for everything it was bringing. Hopefully, they could clear his name by the end of the week. Preferably today, but that was a bit much to ask for, he guessed. Maybe they could just turn the tide with the explanation Treville was going to give everyone?

A knock sounded on the door again.

"D'artagnan, you in there? You alright lad?" Porthos' voice questioned, though he could hear the others murmuring out there also. D'artagnan groaned, pushing himself up before making his way to the door.

"You know the door's unlocked, Aramis made sure it was last night. So why knock?" The young man questioned, pulling the door open to allow the men in. Once closed, Aramis helped him over to the edge of the bed, intent on checking the wounds, leaving the others to answer. Athos leaned forward, one eye on D'artagnan, one eye on Aramis' hands as they checked the wound.

"We thought you might like some privacy." Athos distractedly answered, eyes still on Aramis. Porthos chuckled from his spot against the wall beside the bed.

"He won't say, but when you didn't answer the door the first time he was gonna bust it down and storm in here, all out of worry. We held him back though, as Aramis thought you might like a minute of peace." Athos grumbled at the comment about him but otherwise said nothing. It was true, he had been going to bust down the door to check on the young man, and it had been true that he was more worried than he would say. He hadn't known what would happen in the night since they were at the garrison. He would like to think the best of his fellow Musketeers, but after Alarick...he didn't know. He'd been afraid someone would try something. Thankfully, the night had been quiet.

Aramis chuckled while re-bandaging the man's abdomen. Athos' worry had been plain, no matter what he'd say. But, Porthos and himself had been just as worried. What if something had happened to the young man in front of him? The thought was depressing. The Gascon had somehow wormed his way past their walls and defenses and into their hearts. He didn't know what he would do if something serious happened to D'artagnan, possibly killed him. It bore too much pain to think about.

D'artagnan's gaze skittered between the three men, knowing that there was more they weren't saying but didn't press. He just wanted to get this over with.

Aramis stood, having finished with the bandaging. He grabbed a clean shirt from D'artagnan's wardrobe, helping him pull it over his head and slip his arms into it. Next, he grabbed a pair of pants before helping him slip them on, to D'artagnan's embarrassment. No matter how many times they'd helped him dress recently it never went away.

Athos grabbed D'artagnan's jacket, slipping it onto the young man's shoulders with ease. Brushing his hands along the arms he gripped them.

"You sure you're ready for this?" He asked, having a feeling he knew the answer. D'artagnan leaned into the touch unconsciously. He closed his eyes.

"No, but I don't have a choice, do I." There was no question in his tone, no matter how he'd said it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was it. This was going to start the end of everything that had happened recently. Now, if he could just make it through the day.

Aramis and Porthos moved in, each wrapping an arm around him while Athos still gripped his arms.

"You're not alone lad, no matter what you may be thinking. You have us and you have Treville. You'll get through this. I know it." Porthos murmured in his ear, Aramis nodding along in agreement. D'artagnan nodded, pulling himself up straighter, taller.

"Let's do this then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...do you think that was Alarick or the Mole at the beginning?? Just curious to see what you're all guessing:)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy...We're nearing the end!

Treville leaned against the railing to the walkway outside his office, watching his men in the courtyard below. The Musketeers wandered around the area, waiting for breakfast and the daily announcements, roll call and duty roster. Only what they didn't know is that today was going to be different.

Treville leaned harder into the beam, breathing deeply. Having a traitor in his midst, and not knowing who it was...it was incredibly draining. He was watching his men in a way that before two months ago, he wouldn't have even considered. No one would have thought that their brother would give them up, would try and hurt them. It wasn't conceivable. Yet here he is, preparing to clear one of his men's names and accuse another. God help him.

He leaned back some when he saw his four best walk out of D'artagnan's room, not wanting to seem conspicuous. He wanted to see everyone else's reactions, hoping he'd get a clue about who was the mole.

The four made their way down the stairs to the courtyard, Athos and the others forming a protective perimeter around the youngest. Porthos had an arm wrapped around the Gascon's shoulders, keeping him pulled close to his side. Aramis was not far off D'artagnan's other side keeping a wary eye on his fellow Musketeers. Athos was leading the group, his expression almost daring someone to make a move.

All the other Musketeers watched them raptly. A few looked disgruntled but for the most part everything was fine. Alarick stood off to the side with his friends, glares on all their faces aimed at D'artagnan.

Treville wanted to go down there and demand an answer from the man about why he would go and shoot D'artagnan. Sure, everyone thought he was a traitor, but that didn't mean go and hunt him down. There had to be another way for him to deal with his betrayal.

The four settled at their usual table, ignoring the others. Well, all but D'artagnan. Treville could tell when his gaze would stray fearfully to the men around them and then the others would bring his attention back to them, only for it to move again. D'artagnan held his body stiffly, more stiffly than it should be considering he'd had a bullet put into him and was still healing. Treville pushed himself away from the rail, having seen enough.

It was time to end this.

 

D'artagnan watched out of the corner of his eye as Alarick and his friends, the same ones with him when he'd shot the young man, sat at a table diagonally across from them. He kept catching their hateful leers sent his direction, wincing every time. He tried to not pay attention to them...but he couldn't. He just kept watching them.

Porthos, who'd settled beside the young man at the table, grabbed D'artagnan's shoulder, bringing his attention back to the front. The Gascon shook his head before facing Athos and Aramis.

"You shouldn't pay attention to them, lad. They know you're afraid of them and will use that against you. You're not alone little brother, we'll take care of you." Porthos wrapped an arm around him again, pulling him close to his side. Aramis and Athos nodded in agreement. No way would anyone touch him and get away with it. Athos leaned forward against the table towards D'artagnan.

"Like Porthos said, they won't touch you. But you need to relax, otherwise you'll never get through the day. You can't stay as tense as you are."

D'artagnan pulled in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He knew they were right. He just couldn't make himself relax any. Not with everyone in the garrison boring holes into his back with their eyes. How was he supposed to function like this? D'artagnan didn't notice when his breathing became shallower.

Aramis cursed, stepping around the table to kneel at the Gascon's feet. He knew that everyone was watching them but he didn't care. Let them think what they want, he was going to comfort his friend.

"D'artagnan, I need you to breathe. Deep breaths. You need to calm down. Copy me. In, out, in, out. That's it."

D'artagnan took a breath copying Aramis. He didn't know what happened. It was the same as the other day. He shouldn't be panicking, not in front of all these people. Now what would they think about him?

Aramis sighed in relief as D'artagnan started breathing correctly again. He knew this was scary to the young man, it would be to anyone in their right mind. But they needed him to stay with them. After this was over he could panic, cry, scream, throw a fit, whatever made him feel better.

D'artagnan looked up into Aramis' face, his eyes telling him thank you. Aramis just nodded back, gave him a slight smile and returned to his seat.

Athos came back bearing a tray of food, no one having realized he'd left. None of them felt like eating, but they were going to need the fuel to get through the day. He set the respective plates in front of each of them before sitting, and digging into his food. At his movements, the other did also.

 

After everyone had finished, and the dishes taken back to the kitchen, Treville stepped in front of everyone, demanding their attention. All eyes turned to him. He took a breath before starting his daily call outs. When he'd finished with that, before anyone could move to leave, he called out.

"Hold on a minute. There's more that needs to be said." All attention returned to him, though now it was curious. What was going on?

"Recently, it was discovered that we had a mole. Most of you would say that it's been dealt with and are wondering why I'm bringing this up, and you're especially wondering why D'artagnan's back...That's because it was all a lie."

A murmur rose from the crowd as everyone wondered what was going on. Treville raised a hand for silence.

"I know, I'm the one who said he was the traitor and why would I lie. But it was all a scam. D'artagnan was accused of being the spy to draw the real one out, so he would make himself noticed. But it seems that everyone took to him being called that very seriously and there was an attempt on his life." Treville settled his gaze on Alarick but didn't say anything. That was to be dealt with on another day.

"From this day forward D'artagnan is to be treated with the respect he deserves. The mole is still out there men, and he needs to be stopped. He's still feeding information to the Red Guard and our enemies. If you know anything, step forward." Silence settled on everyone, partially in shock and partially in anger. They didn't know what to think.

 

No, no, no...This can't be happening. Everyone was supposed to blame the Gascon. I was supposed to get away with it. This shouldn't be happening!

A man in the back of the group shook with anger. His plan was falling apart. Plan b wasn't going to work now...everyone knew the truth. What was he going to do? Run? Everyone would know he was the traitor then. But he couldn't stay here any longer, not without risking getting caught. There was one way though...

The man made his way forward towards the center of the crowd. No one payed attention when his arm snaked out and wrapped around D'artagnan's neck. He pulled back causing D'artagnan to gasp and put his musket to the Gascon's head. When everyone turned to face him he shouted.

"Nobody move or he dies!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy guys!

"Nobody move or he dies!"

D'artagnan could hear the voice behind him shouting and feel the arm around his throat tightening but couldn't comprehend it. He was being attacked in the middle of the courtyard in front of all the Musketeers...and they were doing nothing. What...

"Drop your weapons...all of you." D'artagnan felt the pistol being jabbed harder into his skull. He winced but didn't make a sound. He wouldn't give this guy any more leverage, he'd had enough. His eyes slid to his friends, looking for a reassurance he didn't feel, only to see Athos preparing to grab his sword off of the ground.

"I said, don't move! Do you want the kid to die?!" The arm around the Gascon's throat tightened considerably with his captors anger, making him gasp for breath. He needed to breathe.

Athos stepped back and held his hand up in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. He didn't think he'd succeeded until the man released D'artagnan's throat slightly. The Gascon breathed deeply, trying to get air into his starved lungs. He definitely did not want to go through that again.

"Alarick, let him go. This doesn't have to go any farther." Treville tried to reason, stepping forward until he was next to the trio. Porthos and Aramis stood on either side of Athos, but whether that was to keep him from moving or to grab their weapons, D'artagnan didn't know.

Alarick's gaze violently jumped everywhere. Everyone was watching him with shock and contempt. They weren't supposed to look at him like that, they were supposed to look at the annoying kid in his grasp like that. Not him...never him.

D'artagnan stumbled backwards when Alarick pulled him, trying to keep his footing. His abdomen was spiking with pain at every move and his head was complaining at the harsh treatment it was receiving. God, what a crappy day.

Aramis' mouth was set into a hard line as he watched Alarick pull their youngest backwards while demanding that everyone move in front of him. He could see the pain lining D'artagnan's features, just like he could see the panic the Gascon tried to hide. Nobody else might be able to see it but he could, and by God that was making him even angrier. The young man should never look like that.

Porthos clenched his fists while watching the whole thing, every part of him wishing to move to grab the man who dared to hurt his little brother. When he got his hands on Alarick, and he would, he would make him wish he were dead.

Athos' expression was a cold, hard one as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. This shouldn't be happening, not after they just promised the young man that nothing would happen to him. Dread filled him as he thought back to not being able to save his brother. No, this couldn't end like that. He wouldn't let it.

Once Alarick was sure everyone was in front of him he turned his gaze to the Inseparables.

"Why, could you not just keep believing he was the mole? Why did you have to keep questioning? You ruined everything!"

The trio looked at each other confusedly. Alarick was the mole? All they'd thought was that he'd panicked once they'd returned with D'artagnan and he found out the Gascon wasn't as dead as he'd thought. This changed things.

Treville was silent as everyone moved towards the front, gathering around him and the trio. He hadn't been expecting Alarick to be the mole.

"Alarick, why would you try to kill D'artagnan if you wanted everyone to believe he was the mole?" Aramis spoke up to ask. He didn't really care about the answer, but he'd do anything to keep Alarick from hurting D'artagnan more or leaving with him.

"I didn't want him to come back with evidence against me. It needed to be perfect, and it was 'til you started meddling in affairs that weren't yours!" Everyone could see the mania in Alarick's eyes as he started shouting again. Unfortunately, he also started tightening his arm around D'artagnan's neck again. D'artagnan's hands grabbed frantically at Alarick's arm, desperate for air. Aramis winced with guilt at what his words caused.

"Alarick, just let him go. He's of no use to you now. Just let him go and leave. We won't come after you." Alarick just started laughing at Athos' words.

"Let him go...why would I do that? He's my ticket out of here. So no, I won't." Alarick stepped back a couple of steps, pulling D'artagnan even further away from the others. What he didn't realize, was that there was a whole group of them hiding out in the street, who had gone inconspicuously out the back and looped around. Porthos saw the signal that they flashed before giving a slight nod to Aramis. Aramis lightly squeezed Athos' arm from where he was slightly behind him, out of sight of Alarick.

D'artagnan, who didn't know that there were others behind them, started fighting, trying desperately to get away from the man holding him. But Alarick just took the pistol and smashed it into his head, causing him to slump in his arms, slipping into unconsciousness. Alarick hoisted the dead weight up higher into his arms, still using the Gascon as a shield.

The trio seethed with anger at the rough treatment their youngest was receiving but didn't move. Everything was about to fall into place, they just needed to wait- no matter how hard that was.

Alarick stepped back again, knowing that he was nearing the gate, making sure to keep a hold on his hostage. Everything might've fallen apart, but he was getting away. He had his escape all planned out. All he needed to do was get to his ship at the loading dock and then, once he was out at sea, he'd get rid of the nuisance in his arms.

Alarick reached the gate, pushing it open before stepping through. When he went to move away he felt something pointy jab lightly at the small of his back, just enough to break the skin.

"It's over, Alarick. Let the kid go." The Musketeer holding the sword said. He was one of the one's who'd thought D'artagnan was the traitor. This was his way of trying to make it up to him, even though he was unconscious.

Alarick shivered at the press of the sword against his back. Instead of letting D'artagnan go though he just tightened his grip on him.

"No." He quietly stated before pushing the muzzle of the pistol into the soft flesh of D'artagnan's temple again.

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the air.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy!

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the air.

Everyone was still, not entirely sure what happened. It wasn't until Alarick's body dropped suddenly, dragging D'artagnan with him, that they saw the gun in Aramis' hands being lowered. It was another moment before everyone was moving, either towards Alarick's dead body or to D'artagnan's still one, still locked in Alarick's arms. Athos rushed forward, intent on getting to D'artagnan, Aramis and Porthos right behind him.

The trio dropped down next to their fallen friend's side, trying to see if Alarick had succeeded in his attempt to shoot him. With a relieved sigh and a shake of his head Aramis confirmed that there was no gunshot wound, other than the one still healing. Porthos lightly shoved the other two men out of the way and scooped D'artagnan's still form into his arms to take him to his room. Athos and Aramis hurriedly stood up and followed, none of them caring about the dead Alarick out in the street. The others could take care of that.

Aramis slid around Porthos to open the door for him, almost tripping in his haste. Porthos grunted a thanks before heading to the bed inside the room. Only once he had D'artagnan settled did he back away enough for Aramis to continue looking at his injuries, only for Athos to take his place.

Athos stroked a hand through D'artagnan's hair, trying to give comfort even though he knew the young man probably didn't even know they were there. He continued the motion all throughout Aramis' examination. He continued it even when Aramis pronounced him okay, just concussed. He didn't move, unwilling to leave the side of the young man he cared deeply for. He let out a stuttered sigh, relief starting to flow through him as his heart now realized what his mind was saying. D'artagnan was alive. He was okay. Well, he was going to be.

Aramis leaned his forehead on D'artagnan's leg, just resting for a moment. The adrenaline of shooting Alarick and rushing to check D'artagnan was dropping, leaving him tired and drained. He breathed a deep, calming breath. It was over. Now, they just waited for D'artagnan to wake.

Porthos' hands clasped Aramis and Athos shoulders, but whether it was to comfort them or take comfort himself nobody knew or cared. They were together and safe, that was all that mattered.

 

It was almost dawn, the light of the sun peeking out with colors of pink, red and yellow, when D'artagnan woke the next day. He stirred, breathing deeply before coughing as the air disturbed his sore throat. More than sore, it was on fire.

The trio jerked awake when the sound of D'artagnan's coughing reached into their sleep-fogged brains. It wasn't until they felt D'artagnan shifting more, as they were resting their heads either on the bed or one of his appendages, that they jolted into full alertness.

"D'artagnan...You're awake!" Aramis voice sounded excitedly through the room. D'artagnan turned his head to give them a small smile.

"Hey guys." The Gascon croaked, wincing as his throat complained at the treatment. Athos reached for the cup of water on the bedside table, helping the young man to sip it. D'artagnan drank gratefully as the cool water eased the ache in his throat. When he went to speak again, Aramis shushed him.

"No talking, your throat is going to be sore for a couple of days and needs to be rested. But other than that, and the concussion, you're fine. You'll be right as rain in a couple of weeks." Athos looked over at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Weeks? I thought you said he was okay." Athos' voice rose an octave. Aramis just glared at him in response.

"'Did you forget he has a bullet wound in his side? He won't be leaving this bed for a while yet if I have anything to say about it. The wound got disturbed during the scuffle yesterday."

D'artagnan groaned when he heard this. He didn't like being cooped up, especially confined to a bed. This was going to be a nightmare. Porthos, the only one who heard the Gascon's complaint, chuckled before patting the boy's shoulder.

"You'll live, lad. You're just gonna have to deal with us bein' protective for a while. Get over it." D'artagnan groaned in complaint again, since he couldn't speak, causing the others to chuckle. When the laughter died down, a serious expression crossed over the trio's faces. Athos leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

"D'artagnan, we're sorry. We promised to protect you, promised that nothing would happen to you, and it did. We're incredibly sorry for that, and hope that you'll forgive us. We know that our relationship hasn't been the best lately but we're hoping, with your permission, to keep trying to remedy that. We were getting better, and we don't want to see our friendship, our brotherhood, fall apart again." Aramis and Porthos nodded in agreement to what Athos said. D'artagnan just watched them silently, before a small smile crept across his lips. He nodded before speaking softly.

"I don't blame you guys for what happened yesterday. That was no one's fault but Alarick's. You need to accept that. As for everything else, I'm not ready to be a Musketeer again. One day, yes, and probably sooner than I think, I'll return. But some things need to be straightened out between us, and me and everyone else first before I do so. As for our friendship? We're gonna be okay. I've come to the realization that I can stay angry and unforgiving and never move anywhere, or, I can work towards forgiveness and move on with my life. So...I guess that's my way of saying you're forgiven, but the trust isn't completely there yet. That needs to be earned back. Though...you're on the right track." No one commented on the slight break in his voice towards the end of his speech, and no one commented on the tears in everyone's eyes.

After a moment of gathering their composure the trio nodded with smiles on their faces. Not everything was fixed, but it was on it's way to being there. And that made everything seem better.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you all for sticking with me through this! Hope you enjoy this final piece:)

Two Months Later:

D'artagnan rode towards the gates of the garrison, a little excitement running through his veins. It had taken a while but he was actually back. For a moment a couple of weeks ago he didn't think he would be returning.

Flashback:

D'artagnan spun away from the sword coming at him before striking at his opponent with a side swipe. The other man blocked before backing away, sword held in front of him at the ready. D'artagnan panted slightly, as breathing still bothered him some. All his bruises from the ordeal at the garrison had faded leaving just the bullet wound in his side to bother him. While mostly healed, it still twinged with exertion. 

D'artagnan faced his opponent steadily, not gonna be the one to give in for once, no matter how bad he was feeling. The Gascon blinked as sweat dripped down into his eyes, blurring his vision, but he didn't , after a five minute long stalemate, his opponent dropped his sword to his side before flashing a small smile in his direction.

"You did well, D'artagnan. I think you're about ready to return to duty." It wasn't a surprise that his brothers knew he wanted to return, after all this time. He'd asked enough times about what was going on at the garrison and whether they thought that, if he returned, hypothetically, he'd be welcome.

Applause sounded from off to the side. Aramis and Porthos had made it their duty that on the times they weren't training D'artagnan, they'd be the moral support to the loser of the sparring match who, as of recently, was always D'artagnan.

"Aw man, I was hoping to surprise you guys with the announcement." D'artagnan quipped, trying to sound forlorn but failing miserably as the wide grin on his face made it entirely unbelievable. The others just chuckled in response.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'd like to get the meeting with the Captain over with so we can go have a celebratory meal. I'm starving." Porthos stood before pulling Aramis to his feet, who was chuckling at his big friend. Aramis patted Porthos' chest.

"You, my dear friend, are always hungry. But, I guess I could eat also. Come, let's get a move on."

The group headed towards their horses, as they'd been training outside the city. Once mounted, they hurriedly headed towards the garrison. Once there, they left their horses with the stable boy, who they'd told to just wait for a moment as they'd be right back, before making their way to the Captain's office. Athos knocked, almost impatiently waiting for a response. Once they'd heard the reply, they made their way into the room. Once the door was shut after they'd all filed in, Athos stood next to D'artagnan directly in front of the desk towards the back of the room.

"Captain, we believe that D'artagnan is now ready to return to duty. He has pretty much gotten all his strength back and his skills are almost up to par, nothing that another week or so can't fix." Athos stated, the pride clear in his voice. D'artagnan gave him a small smile before facing the Captain again, who had remained silent. D'artagnan frowned in question.

"Look, I'd love to put him back on the roster, believe me I would, but there are still a few people who dislike him enough to try something. Namely, the former Alarick's friends. I'm sorry but I can't do it." The trio frowned at the reminder of the men who had witnessed their friends shooting, and almost demise. The men hadn't gotten off scot free, but they hadn't received the punishment they thought they should have because of not having pulled the trigger. They couldn't do anything really important, but they were still used for guard duty.

"But Captain, surely you could convince them not to try anything. C'mon, please don't let D'artagnan lose his place here because of a bunch of men who don't deserve the title they have." Aramis tried to reason but the Captain held up his hand to stop him.

"I'm sorry, but my position is final. I'm sorry, D'artagnan."

After that there was no point in a celebratory meal. They'd just ordered something small with a couple of bottles of wine to take to Athos' apartment. D'artagnan then drank himself into unconsciousness.

The morning after D'artagnan decided to take a trip to see Madame Elise and Monsieur John, though not before promising the others that he'd return shortly. He stayed with them for a while, catching up on what had been happening on the farm, and catching them up on what had happened to him since he left. Needless to say, Madame Elise got so mad she'd almost thrown something. D'artagnan was impresseed.

It was only when he'd returned that the others were able to tell him that everything had been taken care of, and that he would start working at the beginning of the next week.

Now, as D'artagnan rode through the gates, he felt like he was coming home. Sure, it had been nice to have a place, but this...this is where he felt alive. And now he had it again.

D'artagnan dismounted and stabled his horse. Once that was done, he made his way to the courtyard, where his friends were waiting for him. He strode in their direction, almost basking in his happiness. Once he'd stopped in front of them Porthos grabbed him in a hug while chuckling.

"Lad, you looked like the cat that got into the milk just now." D'artagnan flushed slightly in response. Aramis chuckled this time, before grabbing him in his own hug.

"It's a good look on you kid. You're happy, and you should be." D'artagnan pulled back and smiled in thanks, before moving to Athos, who had a fond smile vaguely etched on his lips. D'artagnan leaned forward and gave Athos a hug before stepping back and addressing all of them.

"Thank you, for not giving up on me. If it hadn't been for you guys, I wouldn't be here right now. So...Thanks." The trio gave a slight nod in response.

Athos reached towards the table behind him for a bag. Reaching in he pulled out D'artagnan's cloak and pauldron. He turned back towards D'artagnan, holding the items out.

"I think you're gonna want these back." D'artagnan hesitantly reached out, tears in his eyes. When he'd given these up, it was with the intent of never getting them back. Now...he was.

Athos reached forward and help fasten the pauldron. Once done, Aramis then helped him with the cloak.

Once he was completely suited up, the trio grabbed his shoulders and arms, pulling him into a brief hug before stepping back. It was Athos though, who kept his hands on the Gascon's shoulders.

"D'artagnan...Welcome back."


End file.
